


Collared

by EgoDominusTuus



Series: Blood and Scars [2]
Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Dom/sub Undertones, Dubious Consent, M/M, M/M/M, Multi, Rough Sex, Threesome, Unhealthy Relationships, but Preston still wants it, collared, m/m - Freeform, master - Freeform, post-Nuka-World
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-11
Updated: 2016-09-11
Packaged: 2018-08-14 09:25:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8007922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EgoDominusTuus/pseuds/EgoDominusTuus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Preston Garvey wants to deny the fact that he still <i>wants</i> his General, Salem... because Salem is the King of the Raiders now. The mind and the body, though, have different opinions.</p><p>--</p><p>In which Salem shows Preston that he's still a loyal dog... and may or may not bring Gage to enjoy the fun later.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Collared

Salem walked into Sanctuary Hills covered in blood from his chin to his waist. My eyes narrowed, and I felt fury pulse through me at the fact that there was no way for me to know if it was the blood of another raider, or the blood of one of the people of the Commonwealth that he'd sworn to protect.

He didn't have priorities though - he'd proven that to all of us when he'd become the self proclaimed King of Nuka World without any regard for all of the promises that he'd made to the Commonwealth when he became the General of the Minutemen...

For all of the promises he'd made to  _ me. _

There was a strut to his walk, like he'd just done something that he was pleased with - a certain lope, like a wolf who'd returned successfully from the hunt. His oceanic eyes started searching around one of the only places that he hadn't let his raiders overrun yet, and stopped when they landed on me.

A slow smile curled across full, scarred lips - a flash of white amongst the ocean of black paint and blood that stained his visage. It made my stomach curl, made something inside of me want to scramble, panic. Run away.

_ Run to him. _

Instead, I stayed planted in place, my hands fidgeting with the Minutemen hat that I always wore - I'd changed out the armor and clothing that he'd supplied me with for my coat again. The only thing that remained on my body from our time together was a metal chain that wrapped around my wrist.

It was a damn chain dog collar, and I couldn't get it off. Sturges had offered, but he'd come at me with a blowtorch, and I'd quickly shot the idea down. I told myself that it was because I didn't want to be burned - I denied the fact that it was because it was the only memory that I had of being  _ with _ Salem.

I remembered the night - we'd taken out a camp of raiders that were attacking one of the nearby settlements, and he came to me soaked in blood and riddled with glancing blows. I'd offered to patch him up, but his eyes had been swirling with something darker.

Something  _ hungry. _

Even if I had wanted to, I don't think I would have been able to deny him then. He'd taken me hard and fast from behind, bent over my bedroll in the dark of the night - he'd been fury and  _ power _ , and I'd felt his very presence swallow me whole with no mercy and no sight of ever being let loose.

After he'd released me, panting and sore and so full of satisfaction, I'd felt him pick my limp arm up. I'd felt something cold fasten around my flesh.

It wasn't until the next morning, when I'd woken from a near stupor of sex induced sleep that I opened my eyes and realized what he'd done. There was a chain wrapped double around my wrist, looping up to my forearm. It was fastened, the latch broken so that it stayed shut... and I'd  _ felt _ collard then.

Felt like he  _ owned  _ me.

Back then, he had me wearing short sleeves that showed the metal off - I'd worn it without blinking.

Now, I wore it under the sleeve of my coat, and I pretended for all the world to know that it wasn't there.

The raw betrayal in my chest from what he'd  _ done,  _ what he'd  _ become...  _ No, I couldn't fool myself. It was what he always was, and helping the Commonwealth had just been a pretense to further his goals... and that betrayal poured through me and twisted things deep in my gut. It made me furious - I couldn't forgive him.

I wouldn't forgive him.

A part of me hated him.

"Preston, my loyal little Minuteman." His voice was a growling purr, and it made me stand at attention. I let my dark eyes harden to slices of hatred, but I could feel something inside of me stirring. "I have new orders for you."

_ I'll follow you, because I'm a loyal Minuteman. But I'll never trust you again. _

I'd said the damn words, and Salem had smirked then.

Now, I was regretting the fact that I'd ever sworn any kind of loyalty to him. I could feel eyes on us - hands precariously close to guns. I think the people of Sanctuary only held off on attacking him because they knew that the backlash would be heavy, swift, and merciless. Salem was  _ loved  _ amongst the raiders, just as he'd been loved amongst us, once upon a time.

"General." I bit the word out stiffly, inclining my head to tell him that I'd listen, but I wasn't going to be happy about it.

His eyes swept my frame, dark brows knitting together. One hand ran through his messy black hair, and his gaze fixed on my right wrist. He didn't have to say what he was thinking - I  _ knew _ what he was thinking.

Where was my chain?

Where was my  _ collar? _

I wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of knowing that I hadn't taken it off.

"Garvey," he mimicked my furious tone, but his eyes were burning with something else. Something that I'd seen far too many times - every time he approached me with that look, he'd fucked me hard and fast... and he'd left me panting and begging for more.

I didn't  _ want to see that look now. _

"Maybe it would be best if we didn--" He cut me off with his hand lashing out, catching at my chin and jerking my gaze upward to meet his swirling gaze. I heard the sound of people shifting, and it was only my hand coming up that stopped them from firing at us. It would be a bloodbath - I couldn't let that happen.

"Maybe it would be best if you didn't feed me your sanctimonious bullshit right now. Get into my quarters,  _ now _ . I have  _ orders  _ for you." There we no playfulness to his voice - only the ferocity that pulsed from his body when he was wielding a hammer or an ax. Only the ferocity that left teeth and claw marks along my back in sweat soaked nights. It was full of command, and his presence alone engulfed me. I was  _drowning_.

My stomach was curling, every hair on my body standing up... but I followed him to his quarters like the loyal Minuteman that I was.

He gestured for me to walk in first, and I'd barely taken a step in before I heard the door slam behind me. I didn't get a chance to turn around before hands were tearing the coat that I wore from my body, forcing my arms to be exposed. Fingers twisted and tightened on the chain that still adorned my flesh.

"What a good little dog - you didn't take off your collar. Loyal, aren’t you?" His voice was a growl, and I wanted to turn. I wanted to scream at him. I wanted to do anything other than stand there with rigid shoulders and downcast eyes, and a body that was trembling in  _anticipation._

"Salem, I'm not going to let you-"

A sharp laugh cut me off before I could tell him that I wasn't going to allow him do this - that we weren't going to follow a General who was a damn Raider King.

" _ You _ aren't going to  _ let me?  _ Should I remind you of something, Preston?" He jerked me around by the chain at my wrist, one hand catching my face so that I was forced to look up at him. "You're my loyal little dog, and when I tell you to bark, you fucking  **_bark_ ** ."

His lips crashed hard against mine then, teeth catching my lower pout and biting down until I tasted copper and cried out.

To my shame, I felt my body react - my gut jerked, a low moan chasing the cry that poured from my throat. I jerked away from him as quickly as I could, but Salem was  _ smiling _ , and it was a savage thing full of proprietary desire that made my body even  _ warmer. _

"Good boy." He murmured the words out, and I realized that his fingers were still wrapped around the chain at my wrist. I didn't have time to react, and I didn't have the strength to even try. Salem was  _ strong _ , and when he twisted my arm by the chain so that I flipped around and slammed over the desk that he'd dragged in from somewhere when he'd first built his little house, there was nothing that I could do to stop him. He pinned the limb behind my back, and a low rumble that was a mixture between a growl and a laugh escaped him.

"Are you going to yell for all of your loyal little Minutemen now? Let them see you in such a compromising position?" He taunted me, and I felt shame paint my face scarlet. I wasn't going to yell for anyone - the radio playing in corner was the measure of the noise that I could make.

I couldn't answer him - I bit my tongue instead.

"That's what I thought."

There was no shame or hesitation to him when his hand dove down my pants, and but I was full of shame when a cry ripped from my throat at the sensation of his fist finding my already hard prick.

"You act like you aren't happy to see me, but your body is telling me otherwise." He pumped once at my length, his teeth finding the lobe of my ear and biting down hard. "You're a good little lap dog, eager for your master's touch. I know you, Preston. I know every inch of your body. I know that you like it when I'm rough."

His hand left my arousal and I felt another cry spill from my throat - protest, shame. I wasn't sure what it was. I only knew that my pants were suddenly being ripped from my body, leaving my lower half bare and exposed. Bent over the desk like I was, there was nothing that I could do when I felt him shift behind me - I turned my head to see a flash of oceanic eyes, a smear of crimson across his lips where he'd brought his palm to his mouth... and then he was diving forward and it was only his hand pushing against my mouth, jerking my head back and smothering my scream that stopped me from alerting the entire camp to the fact that  _ something _ was happening.

That something was the full thickness of him ripping into the tightness of my core - I hadn't been touched since the last time that we'd been together, and he seemed to have no mercy in the fact that he was stretching me out to just his size again.

"You haven't let anyone else touch you, have you?" His hand on my mouth pulled my head back until I was forced to look at him - his eyes ripped through me, his hips working hard until the full girth of him was sheathed in my body.

It hurt.

It felt  _ so  _ good.

I felt so damn ashamed.

He could tell it from my gaze, and a slow curling smile spilled across his crimson lips. He brought his face down, his tongue running my jawline, his voice a purr when he spoke. "I knew it. No one can make you feel the way that I can - you want to fuck a filthy raider. You want the goddamn  _ King  _ of the Raiders to pound you until you can't move. You can't even deny it, can you?"

I could do nothing with his hand on my mouth - I could do nothing with his eyes boring into mine.

I could do nothing when his body started to buck, so that the length of him drew out slowly before he jerked his hips forward again, hard enough that the desk inched forward. I screamed against his hand, and I screamed because my frame rocked backward of its own accord to meet his next thrust. I'd  _ missed _ the sensation of this - his heat, his girth, the fullness of him being inside of me in a frenzy that made me feel so _wanted_.

I  _ hated  _ myself, because he was right. I couldn't do a damn thing but let him fuck me. I  _ wanted  _ him to.

His fingers tightened on the chain at my back, like a handle, and he started to work his body in full. His hips pounded forward again and again, so that the length of him dove inside of my ass hard and fast, working deeper - it was like he knew every inch of my body, because he instantly found the sweet spot deep inside of me. His rolling hips hit it again and again, just this side of painful.

The perfect amount for my pleasure.

I gasped, and I felt hot tears spilling at the corner of my eyes - tears of  _ shame.  _ Tears of  _ need _ . My free hand slammed against the desk, and my body bucked back against his of its own volition.

"S-Salem, d-don't-"

I wasn't sure if I was going to ask him to stop, or to  _ stay _ . Whatever I was going to say, he stole the words with his teeth biting hard against my throat and his hand moving down my friend to dive between our bodies and fist my cock again.

" _ Bark. _ " He hissed the word out at the same moment that orgasm ripped through me in a breathtaking wave.

I had to bite my own tongue to muffle my scream, and I felt it as a thick, hot rush of cum burst from my body like liquid shame to paint the floorboards.

As soon as my orgasm started to taper, his hand left my length, capturing my other wrist so that both of my arms were behind my back - his point had been proven, and it seemed that Salem was ready to claim his prize. He let himself get lost in the motion of his body.

He slammed into me hard and harder, until the desk moved half a foot across the wooden floor. I had no breath left in my lungs to scream, and no moral high ground to stand on, because I was still shivering from the orgasm that he'd ripped from me within  _ minutes _ of touching me. He knew how to play me like a damn instrument, how to use me just as skillfully as he used the damn ax strapped to his back.

I couldn't do anything against him, and when he let out a low growl and shot his arms out to wrap around me, my head fell forward to the desk and I revered the sensation of the heat of his seed spilling inside of me.

For a few moments, we were linked together... and for just a few moments, I could imagine that he was the Salem that I'd thought he was - someone who could lead the Minutemen.

Someone who  _ cared. _

That moment was shattered when he straightened up, stroking one hand down my spine and then slapping my ass hard before pulling completely from my body.

"Good boy, Preston."

I didn't lift myself from the desk as I heard buckles fastening - I simply sank to the floor, keeping my gaze on the ground. My body  _ ached _ from the quick fuck that he'd taken, my head spun from the fact that I  _ hated _ him, but I still  _ wanted him so much.  _ Whatever twisted obsession I had with the way that he could play my body hadn't disappeared simply because I  _ knew _ that he was a monster. I knew that he'd come here to prove that to me, and he hadn't failed. Salem  _never_ failed.

"I hate you..." The words were soft, muttered hoarsely from my chest. I didn't have to turn to feel it when he knelt beside me. I did have to turn when his fingers found my jaw, forcing my weary gaze to look at him.

His blue-green eyes were swirling, and pleasure had made his face even more beautiful than it usually was. Streaks of sweat and blood smeared the black paint that spilled around his features as he looked me over for a moment.

The corner of his lips jerked upward, and he let out a soft chuckle. "Maybe. But you're still my bitch... and you still want me, don't you?"

I didn't have to answer - he pressed a hard kiss to my mouth that left me tasting crimson and stood. He gave himself one more once-over and then turned without another word and left.

I stayed curled on the floor, my body burning, a sob trying to crawl its way from my chest... because as much as I wanted to protest - as much as I wanted to pull my gun from my back and shoot his retreating figure, I couldn’t, because...

Salem wasn’t wrong.

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Uhm, I feel like there's gonna be more than just a few chapters of this fic. Because I'm kind of loving this - this chapter was a quickie... I think Salem's gonna be more intent on proving his point long and hard at later dates >_>


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